


Auspicious

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Blood Drinking, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Vampire AU, human!chrollo, vampire!hisoka, vampire!illumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrollo isn't the type to be taken in, and Hisoka isn't fond of that one bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to my beloved Yougei <3

“Are you even listening to a word I say?”

Hisoka looked up from the shapes he had been tracing into the dust, meeting eyes with the eternally unimpressed Illumi. He drew a nose on the smiling cat, flashing his own grin at his friend. “Why of course, Illumi,” he lied, straightening his posture to try and appear attentive. “Don’t I always?”

Illumi frowned, though for anyone unfamiliar with him, it would be hard to tell. “No,” he replied bluntly, erasing the cute cat with a swipe of his hand. “You’re as bad as a child. You know how important it is to attend the gatherings. The Elders—”

“You mean your dad and grandpa?” Hisoka cut in, maybe a little bitter that his drawing had been ruined. “As much as I love and adore your family, I can’t say that hearing them drone on all night appeals to me. I’ve got places to be, humans to slaughter.”

A hand like iron clamped down on his wrist before he could begin to trace out the ears of a replacement cat, Illumi’s face shifting imperceptibly into a glare. “It’s precisely that cavalier attitude that needs to be discussed. You play with your food too much. We have rules in place for a reason, and you’re going to step over the line if you continue on how you’ve been.”

Hisoka pulled the hand off him easily and brought his friend’s pale fingers to his lips, kissing his knuckles with a smirk. “Oh, Illumi, I had no idea you cared so much for me,” he exclaimed, letting him go before Illumi readied his free hand to swing. “You’re only, what? Three hundred? Far too young to be so stuffy and uptight. Live a little. Come hunt with me tonight.”

“I already ate.”

“Oh, since when has that mattered?” he pouted, standing from his seat to lean closer. “Indulge a little.”

Illumi sighed, an act that was doubly impactful given they didn’t need to breathe, and gave him a look that was patently disappointed. “No,” he said, rejecting him with all the harshness his flat expression could command. “If you’re going to be irresponsible and childish, do it by yourself.”

Now that almost hurt.

“Illumi, my lovely Illumi,” he whined, tugging at the fancy and outdated cravat around his friend’s neck. “Why are you so cruel to me?”

Hands as white as snow smacked his own away, Illumi turning up his nose at him. “Disobedient dogs don’t get treats, Hisoka. I don’t need your bad influence pulling me down to your level.”

“You really are no fun at all.”

“Then leave.”

Hisoka stared at his impassive black eyes for a minute longer before finally giving up. “Fine,” he sighed, brushing past him as if it were his own idea to go. “I’ll find my own fun, away from you and your precious rules. Come join me if you ever get bored of daddy’s rules.”

Unsurprisingly, Illumi made no move to stop or acknowledge him. Hisoka pouted and went to the window, transforming without a look back to spare him the stab of betrayal. There weren’t many others near his age in the coven, but Illumi hardly acted as young as he was. Old blood had that effect on some, though Hisoka never let it show.

Cool air greeted him, refreshing after the stale taste Illumi occasionally incited. How could such a beauty be so content with wasting away his afterlife with such drudgery? Crystal speckled the heavens but he only wanted to sulk with the rest, gathering dust in their crypt-like chambers. Hisoka caught an updraft and rode it higher, angling himself towards the city, where there promised to be excitement enough to wash the taste from his mouth.

Where should he hunt tonight? His usual haunts were growing dull, the regular meals almost flavorless given the ease of acquisition. Closing his eyes, he gave himself over to his heightened senses, letting them guide him. Something good would surely show. Maybe tonight would be the night where he’d find himself with a victim capable of giving some much needed fun.

Drifting lower in spiraling air currents, he alit on the street far from his normal stomping grounds. The street was barren of life, though he could sense that his prey lurked close by. Inhaling the night air, he put his hands in his pockets and took to the sidewalk, perusing the storefronts while he hunted.

This side of town seemed to be built of niche shops and curiosities, their odd facades and hand-painted signs harkening back to an age where industry carried a more personalized touch to its cold embrace. Hisoka smiled and peered into a dark window display, taking in the creative fashions sold within. It made him want to laugh. This place was so quirky, but not even a block away he could hear the quick pounding bass of a club, proving that even quaintness could reside near debauchery.

Kicking at a loose cobblestone, he cocked his head and pondered. This street was dark, but a club promised plenty of opportunity. Drunken dancers, hot, naked skin; Hisoka bit his lip and felt his fangs itch, wondering if he could taste the high if he drank deeply enough.

His feet started moving before he fully came down from the thought, carrying him towards the thrumming music. He was hardly dressed for a party, but even then, he’d never been able to resist the taste of baseness that went hand in hand with human iniquity.

He was nearly at the end of the quiet, little street when he noticed that one storefront wasn’t as dark as its neighbors.

A bookstore stood nestled between an antique store and a flower shop, classic in a way that sent a stab of nostalgia through his long-dead heart. What was this doing open? It was well past two in the morning, the sleepy streets long turned in to await the day anew. Hisoka hummed and tapped his foot, wondering was sort of person kept the doors open while the world slept.

The bass from the club pounded like a heartbeat, but he knew it would still be there for a while yet. He was the worst at resisting when curiosity came calling.

Hisoka approached the door and looked at the welcome sign, smiling gently at it. What a wonderful modern invention. It could be so tedious asking for permission every time, but with these, it made the whole process so much easier. He pushed open the door and listened for a bell that didn’t chime, crossing the threshold. A single heartbeat sang to him through the gloom, calling him in like an invitation all its own.

Shelves greeted him first though, rows and rows of them. They were heavy with a wide array of books, most of them old and pleasantly fragrant with their age. Hisoka skimmed his fingers along the spines as he walked, the cool leather and canvas a testament to the store’s esoteric collection. Some of them were antique. All were beautiful, the care given to their preservation more than apparent.

The heartbeat grew louder the deeper in he went, and Hisoka turned a corner and found the source.

Small and demure in his solitude, the human sat prettily behind the counter, engrossed in a tome that looked as old as Hisoka occasionally felt. Raven dark hair brushed his alabaster cheeks. A faded burgundy cardigan, ragged and worn with years of wear, hung off his narrow shoulders. One of the sleeves slid down around his forearm, the slender shape of his limbs no match against gravity’s pull.

With no bell to announce his entrance, there was nothing to break the man from his reading. Hisoka smiled, glad that his curiosity had led him to such a delicious-looking morsel.

Traversing the empty shop silently, Hisoka licked his lips, trailing a hand over the well-maintained books filling the shelves to the ceiling. What would he do to snag this one? There were so many options at his fingertips, and he was always so bad at choosing. This human was so arrestingly pretty as well. He’d have to do something truly special to savor him the way he deserved.

His fangs itched in his gums at the mere thought, a shiver of arousal making its way down his spine soon after. How would this lovely face look, he wondered, gasping and moaning in his arms?

“Welcome,” a cool, listless voice said, breaking him from his thoughts like a brick sent through a pane of glass. Hisoka raised a brow, the human not bothering to look up from his book. “Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

A page turned and Hisoka stifled a bit of a laugh, the defenseless lamb unaware of the wolf so near his throat. “Good evening,” he answered, not bothering to peruse the selection. Instead, he strode up to the counter, eager to pounce. “What an odd little shop this is.”

The worker looked up then, a brow raised as he judged Hisoka. “What an odd customer you are,” he shot back, turning his nose up at his outfit with dark, fathomless eyes. As entrancing as they were, the dark, heavy bags beneath spoke of an exhaustion that lingered bone-deep. “I think your clothes might be older than my first editions.”

Hisoka didn’t rise to the bait, but smiled, dripping compulsion. “An odd customer for an odd shop, run by an odd owner,” he crooned, leaning on the counter a bit to get closer to the delicious scent filling his nose. “How many bookstores are there that stay open this late?”

“None, which is why we’re ahead of the curve,” came the witty reply, the pretty human crossing his arms to stare up at him with a look that seemed decidedly unimpressed. “What’s with the Victorian get up?” he asked, giving him another once over. “Did the club around the corner have another themed night?”

“Perhaps I just felt the night ripe for yielding to temptation,” Hisoka chuckled, shifting his eyes to speed this along. As much as he loved a meal willing to dance with him, he was still rather hungry. “Why don’t you yield a little to me? Come out from behind this counter and let me play with you.”

The man snorted instead, laughing into his hand as if he hadn’t just tried to hold him in thrall.

“You don’t waste time, do you, Lord Henry?” he managed to get out around his laughter, the tiredness of his eyes disappearing for a moment to make way for his glee. “How much did you drink tonight? Should I call you a cab?”

Hisoka started, leaning closer. “You don’t want to come to me?” he asked, shocked that this human still had the free will to tease him, let alone resist so completely. Layering his voice with it, he tried again. “You’re so beautiful. You want to come to me.”

“Fairly certain I don’t,” he replied, sitting back in his chair to tug his book into his lap.

“And why not?” he found himself asking, unused to this nagging feeling of being brushed off.

Eyes as black as midnight looked up at him, patently unimpressed. “For a lot of reasons,” he offered, holding up his small hand to tick them off with his fingers. “I’m tired, I don’t know you, you dress like you’re from a bad bodice ripper romance novel, I’ve got a store to run, a lot of these books are expensive and it’d make a mess, I don’t even know your name—”

“It’s Hisoka,” he interjected, his mind spinning the more the human listed off things. “My name is Hisoka.”

“And I’m Chrollo, but you see,” he said, sitting up straighter to hold out his raised fingers, “that only takes care of one of the reasons, and we still have a lot more keeping us apart. I’d suggest taking your search somewhere else.” Chrollo lowered his hands and took up his book again. “Try the club again. Faces tend to look better once the desperation starts to sink in.”

Was this really happening? Hisoka ran his hand down his face, staring in something like shock at the human completely immune to his every trick. This had never happened before, and for the life of him, he didn’t know how to recover.

“You are so odd,” he stated, staring at Chrollo. The human was ignoring him now, paying him absolutely no mind even though Hisoka could rend him limb from limb and drain him dry if he felt the fancy strike him. “Why are you even awake? What sort of bookstore stays open this late?”

Chrollo didn’t bother looking up, despite the bitter petulance coloring Hisoka’s voice.  What was it tonight with him striking out with every pretty black-eyed beauty he came across? “Some of us can’t sleep, so we work,” he replied, turning another page in complete dismissal. “Are you going to buy a book, or what?”

Hisoka huffed ignobly and turned towards the shelves, wondering if it was worth it to keep up the interaction. “What would you recommend?” he posed, taking in the truly esoteric collection before him. It’d been awhile since he’d bought a book, even longer since he’d bought something in hopes of getting lucky from the exchange. What an odd night this was shaping up to be.

“Why don’t you try some Poe, since you’re so woefully ostentatious?”

He pulled a face that didn’t go ignored. “Too twitchy for me,” he said, brushing the suggestion away with a wave of his hand.

Chrollo raised a brow, deigning to lower his book an inch. “The writing or the subject matter?”

“Poe,” he scoffed, remembering the man. “If I cared for existential gloom, I’d look for it from a man who didn’t startled with every breath of wind that passed him by.”

The book settled on the counter and Chrollo gave him a once over, finally looking curious. “Right…” he murmured, no doubt wondering why he worded it like that. “If that’s not to your taste, then why not stick with what you seem to know? Have some Wilde.”

Hisoka cracked a lascivious grin. “Oh, dear one, I already have,” he teased, savoring the way Chrollo struggled to keep up. “Same with Byron and Shelley. I’ve had my fill of the Romantics, and they always leave me wanting. It was a breath of fresh air compared to all of those Victorians, but you know what they say about too much of a good thing.”

“Why does everything you say sound like you’re talking about sex?” Chrollo remarked, pushing out of his chair to stand. “If you don’t want any of them, then what else do you like?”

Oh, how little this human knew. “Why don’t you tell me what you like?” he crooned, watching him walk around the counter and wander into the shelves like a wolf stalking a lamb. Should he do it now, while he was distracted? It would be so easy to push him against the stacks and take what he wanted.

Chrollo went down onto his knees before a far section, pulling a single book from the bottom of the shelf. “I like a lot of things,” he murmured, flipping through the pages with an almost fond expression on his tired face. His fingers kissed the pages, stroking along the words with a touch like a lover. Too curious to resist, Hisoka came closer, dipping down to settle in beside him for a glimpse at what had him so thoughtful.

 _Whatever is the lot of humankind_  
_I want to taste within my deepest self._  
 _I want to seize the highest and the lowest,_  
 _to load its woe and bliss upon my breast,_  
 _and thus expand my single self titanically_  
 _and in the end go down with all the rest—_

“Goethe?” Hisoka asked, a bit surprised. “Melancholic reading for a melancholic beauty.”

A ghost of a blush dusted the human’s cheeks and he closed the book, holding it out to him to take. “You asked what I liked,” he huffed, pushing Hisoka back so he had the room to stand up. He rested against the shelf a little, seemingly worn out from the movement. “It’s a good edition. The binding is strong and it smells good.”

Hisoka took a deep breath, his head swimming with the scent of age and paper and Chrollo. “It does smell good,” he admitted, staring up at the pale, pretty human. “How much to make it mine?”

Chrollo stared down at him pensively, his temple pressed against the cool wood of the structure. “That edition is rare, only fifty printed in the batch. $650,” he informed him. He said it like a challenge, as if he thought Hisoka couldn’t or wouldn’t pay it.

He smiled up at him and reached for his wallet, counting out the bills to the quickening beats of Chrollo’s heart. The poor thing was acting as if this were expensive. How cute. “Will this cover it?” he asked, rising up to hand him the stack of crisp hundreds.

Wide eyes stared at the money, pale hands taking the bills with a care that suggested he thought they’d disappear if he moved too fast. “Are you serious?” he murmured, looking up at him through his lashes. “You wander in here off the streets and leave with one of my most expensive books, just like that?”

“It would appear so,” Hisoka laughed, tucking the book beneath his arm.

“Who _are_ you?” Chrollo breathed, clutching the money in his clasped hands.

He stared down at the beautiful, infuriating, immune human, wondering the same thing himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u guys for the nice comments! im doing my best to wrangle this thing into place, and i really appreciate the support!

“-and he was completely immune, can you believe that?” Hisoka finished, crossing his arms while Illumi stared down at the ledger in his hands. “Have you ever heard of a human being so resilient? I feel so intrigued, even though I was turned down.”

Illumi broke away from his reading to glance up at him, something almost like interest on his own impassive face. “And he said he was just tired?” he asked, a thin brow raised on his pale face. “What an odd human. Did you eat him?”

Hisoka huffed and kicked his feet up on the desk, only to have them shoved off immediately by his friend. “How could I with such a mystery alive and well? I think I may court him. Savor the dance before I partake of the wine.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all.” A page was turned, Illumi bored of the conversation and intent once again on his work. “You should just end it. You’re the last person who needs distractions.”

“Afraid I’ll lose interest in you? Oh, Illumi, it’s adorable that you worry, but I could never abandon you, fickle as I may be.”

There were no words to describe the perfect blend of exasperation and indifference on Illumi’s face. Hisoka cracked a grin and ran his fingers through his hair, preening for the stalwart vampire glowering at him.

“What are you even doing here?” Illumi asked flatly, fed up at his teasing. “Why do you think I care about any of your misadventures with mortals?”

Hisoka smiled brightly at him, a hand against his cheek to look coy. “Because we’re friends, of course.”

Illumi stared at the wall, his lips moving minutely and silently as if he were reading off words at a distance. He watched for a few minutes, growing more and more curious the longer it went on. Was he alright? Illumi could be fairly odd at times, but this wasn’t in his usual purview of behaviors.

“What are you doing?” Hisoka asked, when Illumi still hadn’t responded or broken away from his intent staring contest with the wall.

Dark, empty eyes looked at him. “I am trying to remember what I did to give you the impression that we were friends,” he answered, sounding a bit lost. “Did I do something or are you just projecting again?”

He was lucky Hisoka was a bit of a masochist or that might have actually hurt his feelings. “You’re so kind to me, Illumi,” he sighed, closing his eyes to pout at the ceiling. It, at least, with its bright frescos and colorful expanse, afforded more kindness to him than his stony friend. “I come to you in my hour of need and you drive a stake through my heart.”

“Keep up your whining and I really might,” he muttered, looking back down at his book. “It’s not my fault you found the one human in the city who didn’t swoon into your arms at your beck and call. Perhaps this is a sign that you should stop playing with your meals and actually hunt like the law states.”

Humming, Hisoka kicked his heels against the back of Illumi’s desk like a bored child. “That would be awfully dull. Where’s the fun if you don’t make it a challenge. And this one…” He trailed off, recalling tired black eyes and pale pink lips, a swan neck begging to be marked. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t make this one special.”

If he imagined hard enough, he could pick up the traces of Chrollo’s scent still lingering in his memory. He’d need to feed before he saw him again, just to make sure he wouldn’t break down and rush the game. Best to do that now, before the night really took root and the prey scampered off to bed.

“Are you going to him again tonight?” Illumi asked, watching him as he stood and slid on his jacket. “It’s not like you to waste so much time on a single meal. If you applied this much care to your responsibilities, you might make for an almost respectable person.”

Hisoka chuckled, deciding he could go for an appetizer. Moving quickly enough to grab Illumi by the chin, he held him in place for a kiss that was as cold as ice but flavored with the blood seeped into the vampire’s lips. Stale and stagnant, it still held its own appeal, like a particularly dry wine paired perfectly with a beautiful face. Oh, how he wished he could have this too, alongside his lovely little human.

It took all of his skill to avoid the furious swipe aimed at his innards, and he darted away and towards the door with a breathless laugh. “Exactly why I avoid them,” he called out, dodging Illumi’s thrown chair. “I’d rather die than be respectable.”

“Then die,” Illumi shot, but Hisoka slammed the door behind him before he could manage to get out another attack. He knew Illumi wouldn’t bother chasing him for one measly kiss, especially if he had other, ‘respectable’ things to be doing. It was fun to imagine though, the destruction they would wreak while tearing each other to pieces. He shuddered out an unnecessary breath and opened the nearest window, throwing himself down into the night to fly towards the city on black wings.

To be honest, Hisoka had his own plans for the evening to be getting to as well, and Illumi would always be there to bother some other time.  

He made for the city as quickly as he could, utilizing every warm air current he could find. His senses guided him like an arrow, and he touched down right outside of Chrollo’s shop, his hand coalescing around the door handle in his eagerness to go inside. What would they do tonight, he wondered, letting himself inside the cozy bookshop.

He encountered Chrollo a few shelves in, far from the sanctuary of his counter. Hisoka clenched his jaw and looked up, taking in the delicate beauty posed on a shelf’s ladder, one arm holding books while the other guided them into place.

“Good evening, Chrollo,” he greeted, savoring the way Chrollo didn’t react. His heartbeat was slow and measured, lethargic even, and completely uncaring in light of being surprised. “How are you this lovely night?”

Chrollo turned his head just enough to look at him, shoving another book in alongside the rest. “Oh, so you really did come back,” he observed, ignoring him once again after he’d confirmed it. “You must be pretty bored to come back here on a Saturday night.”

Hisoka breathed in the scent of him, loving how it mixed with the old papery smell of the books. “I found our last conversation very enjoyable. And you look like you could use the company. It must get awfully lonely here, night after night.” He drifted closer under the guise of reading the spines.

“Sometimes,” Chrollo hummed noncommittedly. “Would you mind pushing the ladder to the left a bit?”

“Of course,” he said, standing closer than he needed to in order to take the wooden ladder and roll it. Chrollo was bracketed in his arms, the heat of his outer thighs burning the skin on Hisoka’s forearms when they brushed.

“Thanks,” Chrollo gave, shuffling the books a bit.

“I see you’re still dressing in rags,” Hisoka observed, taking in the same ratty cardigan from before. “Can you not afford a new one? I’d be happy to buy as many books at it takes to get you into something nicer.”

Chrollo turned just enough to glare down at him. “I happen to like this sweater,” he told him. “And I hardly need to be taking fashion advice from someone who dresses like he missed his curtain call for opening night of Sweeny Todd.”

Even he had to laugh at that. That sharp tongue of his was fierce, more than appealing in its own way. He never thought he’d like a meal with so much bite to it, but Chrollo certainly did seem to love ruining expectations.

His eyes zeroed in on the scant inch of skin that showed when he lifted his arms to restock. Pale and perfect, Hisoka’s fangs ached, longing to sink into the dimples he could see with absolute clarity at the small of Chrollo’s lower back. Would his hips fit as nicely in his hands as he thought they would?

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chrollo bit, his body going still when Hisoka gave into temptation, taking him by the waist to trail his thumbs over the sliver of exposed skin.

Hisoka came even closer, resting his cheek against the warm expanse. He could feel the blood thrumming through him, a measured staccato that moved faster when his breath tickled Chrollo’s lower back. “Helping,” he offered, smiling winsomely up at the glaring human above. “It’s dangerous to climb these sorts of things without support.”

Chrollo scoffed and shoved the book into place. “Funny, because it doesn’t look quite like help from this angle.”

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like you want to get punched,” Chrollo remarked, looking at him until he backed up enough to let him off the ladder. The hands didn’t move though, merely resettling on his waist once he’d turned to face Hisoka properly. “I don’t need you touching me, Hisoka.”

How easy would it be to sink his fangs into his jugular? At this distance, it’d take half a second, maybe less. With Chrollo’s dull, human senses, there’d be nothing he could do to retaliate. The pulse thrummed rebelliously in the slender throat and Hisoka swallowed, removing his hands before he let instinct ruin the game before it had even truly begun.

“You never know,” he chuckled, letting Chrollo slip past him to make his way back to the counter and his chair. “Perhaps my help could be the cure to your sleepless nights?”

Dark, unimpressed eyes leveled him with a stare that stole the breath from his dead lungs. “I don’t need you to fuck me to sleep, Hisoka,” Chrollo replied crudely, the curse word sounding harsh in his smooth voice. “If you want to help, get creative. I’ve tried everything under the sun already.”

He followed him like a flower following the sun across the sky, leaning on the wooden counter while Chrollo settled in to read his latest book. “That almost sounds like a challenge.”

“Please don’t take it as one.”

Hisoka huffed out a laugh and watched his delicate fingers linger on a page. It was so entertaining watching him read, even if Chrollo did ignore him like an incessant insect buzzing around his head. He could get used to it, if it meant getting to play a bit. A challenge sounded like a game, and a game sounded like fun.

“I’m going to cure your insomnia,” he decided, using his fingertips to tilt Chrollo’s book down so they could meet eyes.

“Are you, now?” Chrollo sighed, giving him a look. “And what are you going to do if you succeed? What do you get out of it?”

Taking the book from him gently, he perused the title and flipped through the pages, keeping Chrollo’s spot marked. “What makes you think I want anything out of it?” he asked, his innocent smile nearly ruined by how his fangs itched behind his lips. “Can I not help another fellow denizen in this lonely night find some measure of solace in Morpheus’s embrace?”

Chrollo stared at him in disbelief for a moment. “Who talks like that?” he muttered, snatching back his book. The ghost of a blush dusted over his pretty cheeks, the rush of blood scenting the air like a perfume. Even the horrible, tattered cardigan wrapped around his shoulders couldn’t detract from his beauty.

“Someone with taste,” Hisoka told him, leaning forward to immerse himself in the scent.

A hand met his face and he found himself unceremoniously shoved back. “Goethe was the worst thing to give you. It’s made you think you’re as charming as Mephistopheles,” Chrollo grumbled, crossing his arms. “Everyone wants something, Hisoka. You aren’t doing this out of the goodness of your heart.”

If that wasn’t the truth. He had his suspicions, but it was likely that he couldn’t use his compulsion on Chrollo unless he was well-rested. His exhaustion kept his mind intangible, leaving nothing to grasp and mold. A challenge was only fun when he knew there’d be a payout at the end.

“Perhaps knowing you can rest is its own reward?” he posed, imagining how sweet he would taste when he finally had him in his arms. “Isn’t it more fun to just play along and let me try? What harm does it do you to humor me?”

“It encourages you for one,” Chrollo shot, looking a little overwhelmed at the insistence.

Hisoka laughed. “A lot of things encourage me. Try again.”

Chrollo wrinkled his nose. “It makes you think it’s okay to proposition me.”

Pouting, he tried to appear innocent. “Would it make you feel better if I promised to only try something if you want me to?” he asked. It wasn’t his fault that Chrollo looked like the most delectable morsel he’d ever seen. If restraint was what Chrollo needed to let him proceed, he’d be restrained.

His shoulders slumping, Chrollo looked steadfastly at the floor. “Why do you even care?” he demanded, his hands fisted tightly in the fabric of his sleeves. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’d like to.” And the strange thing was, Hisoka wasn’t even lying. “What’s the harm? Even if I fail, you at least get some company out of it.” He smiled, making it as winsome as possible. “Take a chance, Chrollo. Let me try.”

Suppressing the urge to gloat was hard when Chrollo finally sighed, looking up at him with acceptance. “If you want to waste your time on a lost cause, then who am I to tell you no,” he muttered, trying and failing to hide his rueful smile. “So, what are you going to try first then? Because I’ve tried everything.”

Hisoka smiled confidently. “You’ll just have to wait and see, my dear one,” he told him. “I have dozens of tricks up my sleeve that you would scarcely even think possible.”

“Oh, really,” Chrollo said, unable to smother the smile coaxed to his lips. “Well, in that case, I expect to be dazzled.”

“You should, because I will have you sleeping in no time at all.” He was lying, he had no idea what to do, but Chrollo didn’t need to know that.

The moment he left the store, he was calling Illumi.

“How do you make mortals sleep?” he asked the second he registered Illumi picking up, giving him no time to be snippy about the early hour or approaching sunrise. Illumi always did like to turn in early, so as not to race the dawn like Hisoka often did.

Illumi was silent on the other end, confused or annoyed, he couldn’t tell. “Typically, if you hit them hard enough, it just happens,” he replied slowly, speaking as if he were talking to a child.

Hisoka rolled his eyes and took off down the street, making for his nearest house. If he kept up this habit, he’d have to invest in one closer to the neighborhood. “I’m being serious here, Illumi,” he sighed, wondering if this were payback for earlier. “Aren’t there potions or tricks to it? You’re always going back to the Old Country, you must know some things.”

“And why should I waste my time helping you run wild?”

“Because we’re friends?” he tried, laughing a little at the worn sigh that came through the line. “Just think, if you help me court my human, I’ll dedicate all my time to him. You’d be left to read your dusty ledgers without me.”

The silence told him that Illumi was considering it. Hisoka crossed another street and came upon one of his houses, letting himself in with a key. “If I do this,” he hedged slowly, his voice even and unreadable, “then you have to come to the council meetings.”

Grimacing, Hisoka kicked off his shoes. “I’ll come to three meetings.”

“Ten, and you won’t embarrass me in front of my father.”

Now that was asking too much. “Illumi, be fair,” he wheedled, descending the stairs that led to the basement loft. “I hardly think a few tawdry herbs warrants that.”

“Goodbye, Hisoka—”

“Wait!” he cut, rubbing the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “Six meetings, and I keep my mouth shut around your dad,” he haggled, unbuttoning the coat and vest and shirt beneath one-handed. Dawn was approaching, so they really didn’t have much time left to do this song and dance.

He could feel Illumi smiling, that small, imperceptible grin that he only wore when he felt accomplished. “I’ll make some calls,” he said. “If you don’t show up at the next meeting, I’ll kill your toy myself so you won’t be distracted any longer.”

With a fond smile, Hisoka settled into his bed, already feeling the cold fingers of morning-sleep crawling along his extremities. “Thank you, Illumi,” he crooned, wondering if his friend were also feeling it too. “I appreciate the help, no matter how much you’re charging me.”

“Are you really going to persist with this? You aren’t the patient type. This isn’t necessary.”

 It wasn’t, but he wanted to do it anyway. Chrollo was beautiful and clever and so very, very interesting, and in a world of unchanging sameness, Hisoka didn’t think he’d live with himself if he didn’t take his time to savor him. If that meant a bit of effort on his part, and some patience and restraint and delayed gratification, well, then it was a good thing time was something he had in spades. Illumi may never be able to understand the game, but it was the only way Hisoka wanted to play.

“Sleep tight, Illumi,” he said, ending the call with a smile.

Whimsy had nothing to do with necessity, and that was what made it fun.


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re late tonight,” Chrollo said en lieu of a greeting, looking just as tired tonight as he had looked yesterday. “I was beginning to think maybe you finally realized that you’d be better off using your time productively. Your life must be so boring.”

Hisoka just laughed and slid the box he had brought onto the counter, giving Chrollo a pointed look. “How could my life be anything but transcendent when you occupy my thoughts?” he asked right back, loving how Chrollo tried and failed to restrain his curiosity at the parcel. He didn’t want to tell him he’d been held up considerably by his forced attendance at the night’s council meeting. Bureaucracy, as boring as it was, wasn’t sexy conversation.

Thankfully, Chrollo didn’t look like he even cared to ask. “You’re too much,” he said, tapping at the understated green of the lid. “What is this? Did you bring me something?” It was almost cute how suspicious he looked, his distrust a palpable taste in the air.

“I did.” Hisoka settled in on the counter, leaning against it with his arms crossed on the surface. “Why don’t you open it and see? I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a bit of everything.”

Chrollo wrinkled his nose and opened the top like it was liable to explode. Hisoka watched with glee as his expressions shifted, going from suspicious to confused to shocked. It finally landed on disbelief, and Chrollo glanced up at him.

“What did you do to them?” he demanded, holding the box of chocolates up to his nose to sniff like a bloodhound.

He almost wanted to be offended, but for that to be true, he’d have to be innocent. “Nothing at all,” he lied, throwing his hands up in a show of trust. “They’re simply my first gift to you.”

The human didn’t look all that calmed. He picked up a piece of chocolate, looking it all over. Hisoka watched, knowing he wouldn’t find a thing wrong with it. Magic wasn’t something that could be seen, and Illumi had assured him that the witch knew her craft well.

“Since when did chocolate help a person sleep?”

“So you haven’t tried it?” he asked, leaning closer to make Chrollo shrink back. “These are special chocolates.”

Chrollo raised a brow. “That makes me think you drugged them, like some kind of badly dressed ice-cream man from Hell.”

Hisoka blinked. “That certainly conjures up a vision,” he remarked dryly. “If you don’t want them, you don’t have to eat them. I can take them back with me-”

“Hey, I never said I wouldn’t eat them,” Chrollo cut in, holding the box closer to him as if he half expected him to steal them away. “You think I care if I’m poisoned? A coma would be a welcome break from how I feel every day.”

Without pausing, Chrollo popped a chocolate in his mouth, chewing with glee at the taste. Hisoka felt a bit awkward watching him. Did he really not care if they were harmful? They weren’t, or at least he’d been told they weren’t, but still. It was a bit concerning.

“How do they taste?” he asked, and Chrollo went for another piece, his face awash with a happy look as he savored it. “They’re supposed to relieve stress and calm the nerves. It may not put you to sleep, but we have all the time in the world to work up to that, no?”

Chrollo was too busy munching to answer him, going for another chocolate with glee. It made him smile softly, watching him eat with so much gusto. Chrollo was rather pale, a waif swimming in his old, tattered sweater. He needed to eat, especially given the other low points in his health.

After three more chocolates, Chrollo finally decided to take a break from eating, pushing the box away a little while he licked the melted candy from his fingertips. “Those were very good, Hisoka. I think the poison gave them more flavor,” he teased, a looseness to his posture that suggested the magic steeped into the candy was working. “If these are the types of things you try, I might not begrudge your visits so much.”

“Oh?” The smile on Chrollo’s lips was cute, soft in a way he normally wasn’t. Was this what he was like when he was well-rested? Sweet and teasing, but without the cruel bite? “I’ll have to try harder to top this then and keep you guessing. I’d hate for our interactions to become boring.”

Chuckling a little, Chrollo wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I still don’t understand why you want to be here with me. It’s a waste of your time to occupy yourself with my problems.” Warm, dark eyes still rimmed with exhaustion looked to him, softened by their curiosity. “Why do you care so much?’

“Maybe I just enjoy your company?”

“Maybe you should be honest with me.”

Hisoka sighed and looked towards the shelves, wondering if he should lie. Chrollo was clever though. He looked back at him, taking in the slight furrow to his brows and the spot of chocolate still on his lips. What a sweet treat he’d be if he came to him instead.

“I’m a vampire and I want to drain you dry,” he told him, drumming his fingers on the counter top. He’d have to leave this part of the conversation out when he bragged to Illumi tomorrow night, else he’d never hear the end of his sour disapproval. “You’re gorgeous and I’m intrigued, so I find it impossible to stay away.”

Chrollo blinked at him, once, twice, and then a third time before he broke away to stare at the chocolate in his lap. “How sleep deprived do you think I am?” he asked quietly, more shocked than offended. Dark eyes looked up to meet his own. “Are you one of those role-players with the cults and the bloodletting?”

He had no idea what that meant, but he was pretty sure he should be offended regardless. “No, I’m a vampire,” he repeated, slower this time. “Pale skin, enthralling eyes, devilishly handsome to make you fall for my every wile? Come now, it’s not that unbelievable.”

It took a moment to register that Chrollo was laughing behind his too-long sleeve. “You are such a dork,” he managed to get out between bouts of giggling. “Was that why you were all _come to me_ when we first meant?” To get his point across, he made sure to pitch his voice low in a mocking facsimile of Hisoka’s tenor.

Dragging a hand down his face, he sighed. “Yes, that was what that was about. You didn’t fall for it, so I came back.”

“With chocolates.”

Hisoka grimaced, wondering if this was what embarrassment felt like. “Yes,” he mumbled. “With chocolates.”

Chrollo kicked back in his chair, popping another bit of the candy into his mouth, a look of utmost glee on his perfect face. “Sounds like you wanna woo me, not eat me,” he remarked, too cocky for the very real threat Hisoka was. “Like a desperate boy chasing after a girl on the playground.”

Raising a brow, he gave the human a dangerously sharp smile. “Are the two really that mutually exclusive?” he wondered, walking around the counter with his fingers trailing along the wooden surface. Chrollo looked entirely too pleased with himself. “What if I want to devour you in every sense of the word?”

Despite his exhaustion, Chrollo was warm in a visceral way, his chin fitting in Hisoka’s hand like a missing puzzle piece. He didn’t react, but he watched, waiting to see what he’d do next. The chocolate in his lap scented the air, adding a rich, delightfully bitter note to Chrollo’s already decadent aroma.

“Are you really a vampire?” he asked, his voice barely a murmur. There was no fear, only curiosity, as if the thought of monsters in a world of mortals were fascinating instead of horrifying. To his shock, Chrollo reached out a hand and prodded at his lips, searching for fangs with the tips of his soft, delicate fingers.

They smelled like chocolate and blood and Hisoka parted his lips, letting them explore his teeth. “I have to bring them out,” he whispered, speaking slowly while Chrollo had his fingers so close. “Otherwise they look like yours.”

“Then bring them out,” Chrollo demanded, entitled like a child. “I wanna see.”

Hisoka huffed out a laugh before he closed his eyes, focusing solely on the thrum of his blood so close to his tongue. He’d never met another human like Chrollo.

“Woah!” Chrollo startled, jerking his hand back a few inches when the fangs jolted into place, narrowly avoiding his fingers. His heart ticked faster, the thrill making him sweat, and with him so close like this, Hisoka had to tighten his hands into fists to keep from lunging to close the distance between them.

“Careful,” he warned, speaking slowly to coax Chrollo back. “They’re sharp.”

Chrollo didn’t show an ounce of fear, even though his claims had been proven in spades. “Does it hurt?” he asked, running his thumb over the length of a fang, feeling his gum where it had descended from. “Forcing them out like that?”

Did it hurt? What an odd question. He wrapped his hand around Chrollo’s wrist, not to remove him, but just to touch a little too. “Not really,” he answered, wondering how easy it would be to bite down and taste him like this. Would Illumi believe him if he told him? What sort of mortal knowingly put their hands in the mouth of a beast?

“It looks like it would hurt,” Chrollo muttered, cocking his head to get a better look. “Would you be able to hold back if I cut myself?”

Hisoka’s eyes widened, curious if he were tired enough to want to test such a risky idea. “I don’t know,” he told him, the truth for once completely laid bare. “I don’t know if I’d be able to let you go.” He didn’t know if he’d be able to let go right now, even without the bloodlust.

He made a thoughtful noise, and for the life of him, Hisoka didn’t know if that meant he were considering risking it.

With his grip on Chrollo’s wrist, Hisoka pulled the fearless fingers from his mouth and sheathed his fangs, for once, being the responsible one. “That’s enough for now, I think,” he said, a bit breathless for a creature who didn’t truly need to breathe. “Why aren’t you scared?”

“Should I be?” Chrollo asked, not bothering to take back his hand. “You promised to help me sleep, so it’s not like I have any reason to think you’re going to eat me first.”

Hisoka gaped, his mind warring it out. Was this foolishness or some sort of scheme? No one could be so blindly trusting, especially when given every reason to think him a treacherous monster. Perhaps it was simply the chocolates deadening his self-preservation.

“You are going to help me sleep, aren’t you?”

He was jolted from his thoughts, pinned in place by dark, trusting eyes. Like this, he looked every ounce the sheep he was, staring up at a wolf whose fleece was slipping away from his snout.

It was hard, but he just barely managed to keep his fangs from bursting free again at the sight. This human would be the death of him if he kept this up.

“Of course,” he swore, looking down at the delicate wrist still resting in his hand. With his thumb over his pulse point, he could feel the blood leap, as quick as a rabbit’s. “Nothing would make me happier.”

Chrollo smiled knowingly, far too relaxed while so close to a predator. “I think you’re lying,” he breathed, using his hand to pull Hisoka’s closer, resting his head on their joined hands. “But let’s see where it goes anyway. It’s more fun that way, right?”

Cocoa and skin coated his tongue, and Hisoka found he could only agree.


	4. Chapter 4

The next time he came, a stool rested conspicuously close to Chrollo’s usual chair. Hisoka smiled knowingly at the human avoiding his eye and took it, luxuriating in the scent of his temptation as it washed over him anew.

“Grown accustomed to the idea that you’re stuck with me?” he asked, peering around to try and catch a glimpse of Chrollo’s averted eyes. “If you invite me closer I might just lose control.” The bag in his hand went on top of the counter, but even that did little to earn him some attention.

“Hardly,” Chrollo scoffed, lifting his book higher. “This is just better than having you loom over me like a panting dog.”

Hisoka brought a hand to his lips to hide his laugh, holding his other over his dead heart as if he’d been wounded by the words. “What cruelty, Chrollo,” he lamented, looking to the sky for succor. “I have been nothing but kind to you. Has my companionship meant nothing at all in the wake of our shared nights?”

Chrollo lowered his book and stared at him in disbelief. “Whatever you’re on, you should consider bottling and selling it,” he said, rolling his eyes when he reached out a hand to shove Hisoka’s shoulder.

Quicker than he could avoid, Hisoka snatched him by the wrist, kissing his fist before it could connect. “I am simply fueled by your grace and charm,” he crooned, loving how Chrollo’s pale cheeks flushed with blood to a lovely pink, a rose in every sense. “How does this night find you? Are you ready to fall into my open arms, or will our dance last another song?”

“Why are you like this?” Chrollo asked, his blush the only part of him giving away his flustered state. He tugged futilely at his hand, and Hisoka gave it back only after he’d kissed his soft fingers one last time. “I was doing just fine before you walked in, but as always, you make everything weird the second you open your mouth.”

Hisoka laughed, brushing the barb off with a wave of his hand. “Oh come on, the last time I opened my mouth, you stuck your hands inside. If anyone makes it weird, it’s you. It’s okay to admit that you want me, it’s just the two of us.”

“What’s in the bag, Hisoka?” Chrollo asked instead, his brow raised in a way that told him he wouldn’t be humored. At least, not yet.

“My latest attempt,” he answered, reaching in to pull out the thermos.

“It’s a wonder that you spend so much energy on this instead of finding yourself a meal that doesn’t come with baggage,” Chrollo sighed, pointing to his dark-rimmed eyes. “Why won’t you listen when I say it won’t work? Your chocolates didn’t put me to sleep.”

Unscrewing the lid, he poured out a measure of the tea, its hot, spiced scent filling the air and blending with that of the books to make something truly intoxicating. “We’ve yet to see for sure,” he informed him, handing him the cup carefully, mindful of the temperature. “This is special, so be sure to drink it all.”

Chrollo stared at him and sniffed the cup suspiciously. “What’s in it?”

Hisoka chewed the inside of his cheek. He’d gotten the tea leaf mixture from Illumi, who had gotten it from some old witch in the Old Country. There was no telling what all was in it, but he’d been assured that it wasn’t poisoned.

That probably wouldn’t put Chrollo’s mind at ease though, so he decided to lie.

“It’s a mix of a few basic teas,” he explained, drumming his fingers on the counter. “It’s said to relax the mind and promote restfulness. Why don’t you try it? It couldn’t hurt.” Unless it was poisoned and Illumi was getting back at him for that stolen kiss, in which case, it would hurt. A lot. Probably. He was pretty sure Illumi wasn’t that spiteful, at least enough to pull something like that.

Before he could finish that train of thought, Chrollo took a sip, the cup cradled in both hands.

He immediately grimaced, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “Oh, god, why is it so bitter?” he asked accusingly at Hisoka. “It smells so good, so why does it taste like death?”

Death? That didn’t bode well. Hisoka sniffed at the thermos, wondering if it really had been poisoned. Chrollo didn’t look any worse for the wear. His cheeks were a lively pink and his eyes looked more awake than they had been before. That probably meant it was safe, right?

“That’s just from the roots they used,” he explained, making it up as he went. “It’s medicinal in nature, so it’s going to taste a bit bitter.”

Chrollo glared down at the steaming cup, seeming to war it out with himself. “That makes sense…” he muttered, swirling the liquid a few times before he downed the rest in one shot. He thankfully missed how Hisoka’s eyes widened.

Chuckling in a way that he hoped didn’t sound nervous, Hisoka watched him anxiously for any ill side-effects. “How do you feel, love?” he asked, purposefully holding the rest of the thermos away from him in case he felt the need to try and down the whole supply. “Feel a bit more awake?”

A pink tongue licked soft lips, too cute to be followed by such a disgusted grimace. “That really tastes nasty, Hisoka,” Chrollo informed him, holding out his cup for him to take. “What’s the goal here? To kill me with bad tea? I know I say I can sleep when I die, but I don’t want you to speed up the wait period on that.”

Swallowing, Hisoka took the cup and screwed it back on the container, putting the thing on the floor for good measure. “I would never,” he swore, heartfelt. He reached out to cup Chrollo’s cheek, feeling no fever or chill that might suggest something was amiss. The tension in his shoulders eased and he stroked along his cheekbone, not mistaking that spark in his eyes for a bit of newfound energy. “You look better already.”

Chrollo averted his eyes but he couldn’t go far with Hisoka holding him in place. “My eyes don’t feel so scratchy now,” he admitted quietly, resting his hand on the wrist near his cheek. “And I feel a bit more alert.”

When Chrollo tugged his hand away, he went without much struggle, thankful he’d been able to glean that much warmth from him. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep a little?” he asked, hoping that this, of all things, might prove to be the ingredient needed to cure him of his perpetual insomnia.

Shrugging, he didn’t look quite so hopeful. “It didn’t work last night, so I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he sighed, despondently fiddling with worn hem of his sleeve.

“But you don’t feel quite so terrible.”

Chrollo thought for a moment, the ghost of a smile quirking his pale pink lips. “No, I guess I don’t.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Hisoka crossed the familiar threshold, the first thing to greet him was the sight of Chrollo behind the counter, an expectant look on his face and that ratty cardigan wrapped tightly around his thin shoulders. He raised a brow and came close, carrying the hot chocolate behind his back.

“Good evening, my sweet one,” he greeted, savoring how Chrollo’s eyes rolled at the line. “How are you this lovely night? Still not tired?”

Chrollo sighed, furrowing his brow as he peered around him. “I’m always tired, Hisoka. It’s not a matter of being tired that keeps me from sleeping,” he muttered, leaning forward on the wooden counter to take him in. “Where’s my treat?”

Hisoka raised a brow, smiling knowingly. “Your treat?” he asked with faux surprise. “My, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you been eagerly waiting for me.” No matter how the bookstore owner moved, he made sure to keep the cup hidden. “Am I not enough of a treat for you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered, sitting back down in his chair with arms crossed and frown pronounced. The shyest hint of a blush dusted his pale cheeks. “It just gets boring here, sitting by myself.”

He looked so despondent through his valiant front that Hisoka almost felt bad for making him jump through hoops. “I’m glad I can be a break in the monotony at least,” he crooned, coming around to take his usual stool. As he moved, he pressed the still hot cup to Chrollo’s turned cheek, smiling brightly when his human perked up.

Dark, tired eyes widened, and for a moment, it was almost as if Chrollo had come alive. He took the cup in both hands, warming his fingers. “What did you get me this time?” he asked, his voice a touch more grateful now that he knew Hisoka paid attention to his moods.

“Something sweet for my sweetheart,” Hisoka teased, loving how Chrollo wrinkled his nose when he was overly flirtatious to him. “I remembered how much you liked the chocolates I brought you before, so I got something similar for tonight.”

Except warmer, he thought, and without any magical properties. Illumi was being withholding again. With that option gone, he figured it prudent to bring something a bit more mundane, something that might warm the human up even if it wouldn’t steal away his restlessness. Even though he couldn’t feel the cold, he could still see how chilly the store was, and how much Chrollo suffered for it.

Cautiously, Chrollo took a careful sip, his cheeks flushing bright pink when the hot drink warmed him through. “Is this dark chocolate?” he asked, licking the whipped cream from his lips. “This is so good, Hisoka.”

He smiled, resting an elbow on the countertop to prop up his head while he watched. “It is,” he said, admiring the way Chrollo’s neck curved when he tipped his head up to drink. “I’m glad that it pleases you.”

The more he stared, the more Chrollo seemed to shift. He flicked his eyes over to him and pulled the cup reluctantly from his lips. “Do you want to try some?” he asked slowly, as if warring it out with himself if he could bear to spare a single mouthful on someone else.

“Me?” Hisoka replied, surprised. “I brought it for you.”

“But you keep staring. You look like you want some.”

Oh, Chrollo, he longed to say. What he wanted to taste was far more decadent than any cocoa. Instead, he laughed a little, taking Chrollo by the wrist to bring his hand back up to his mouth. “Don’t pay me any mind, dear one,” he chuckled, contenting himself with a few touches to his mortal’s narrow shoulder. “You enjoy that. I got it for you, after all.”

It didn’t look like Chrollo needed much to convince him to finish the drink himself. He even scooted his seat a little closer to him, welcoming the caresses like a persnickety cat allowing contact. “Thank you,” he told his cup, avoiding his eyes as he curled into his comfortable chair. “It’s really delicious.”

Hisoka hummed, running his fingers through the thick black hair. Chrollo was as messy as ever, his outfit worn and haphazard, his hair an unfortunately endearing mop. Beneath it all rested the usual dark smears below his eyes, his exhaustion somewhat worse today than it had been the day before.

“You look so worn out,” he sighed, pushing past Chrollo’s usual boundaries to cup his cheek in his hand. His thumb stroked over the bruised skin and he was pleasantly surprised when Chrollo leaned into it, his half-emptied cup settled in his lap. “Is nothing working?”

For once, Chrollo looked as dejected as Hisoka was beginning to feel. “I told you a thousand times,” he murmured, fiddling with the paper cup. “It’s always like this. Nothing I do will ever work. The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can just ignore it.”

He began to shiver and Hisoka drew back his hand, wondering if his touch only added to the chilliness. “I’m not going to give up,” he told him, unzipping his own coat. Dark eyes watched him strip, going wide while his cheeks turned red.

“What are you doing?” Chrollo rushed, backing away. “I told you already that I’m not going to let you fuck away my insomnia.”

Hisoka rolled his eyes, wishing it would only be that easy. He shucked off the coat and stood, wrapping it around Chrollo’s shoulders before he could put more space between them. “You look cold,” he explained, smiling wryly when Chrollo finally calmed down. The sound of his heartbeat was loud in the quiet space, fluttering and pattering like raindrops against a window pane.

“I’m…fine,” he insisted quietly, looking down at the floor even as he pulled the coat tighter around himself. “Won’t you be cold now?”

Settling back into his seat, Hisoka sighed. “I’ll be just fine,” he said, his senses registering Chrollo’s trembling cease. Dead as he was, he couldn’t feel the cold anyway. The coat was simply for aesthetics and maintaining appearances. He had a dozen others at home.

“This is a nice coat,” Chrollo observed, sniffing at the collar shyly. “Normally, you dress so stuffy and pretentious. Maybe you do have some taste lurking somewhere in that dusty head of yours.”

He held his dust-free head in his hand, wondering if he’d ever met a human so adept at ruining a moment like Chrollo could. “I was about to tell you that you can keep it, but if you’re going to make fun of me, I might reconsider.”

Dark, exhausted eyes looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. “Keep it?” he breathed, curiosity warring it out with confusion. “Hisoka, this thing probably cost you a fortune. I can’t keep it.”

Well, when he said it like that, it only made Hisoka want him to have it even more.

“And why not?” he asked, leaning against the counter to take in how the coat framed his delicate features. Even from here, he could smell their scents begin to mingle. It was intoxicating, and Hisoka’s fangs ached.

Chrollo glared up at him, his hands tight around his cooling cocoa. “Because,” he insisted, taking a drink for want of something to do. “You can’t just give me things all the time.”

Hisoka raised a brow, smiling fondly at him. “But I like giving you things. It’s fun making you happy. If you like it, I want you to keep it.”

“Hisoka-”

He held up a hand, and to his surprise, Chrollo stopped talking. “Do you like it?” he asked, plain and simple.

Chrollo wrinkled his nose. “Hisoka, that’s not-”

“Chrollo. Do you like it?”

A moment passed, and then another, marked by the quick rainfall of Chrollo’s heart loud in the air between them. Chrollo bit his lip, looked away, and then looked back at him. His cheeks reddened.

“I do,” he mumbled, averting his eyes before he managed to admit it.

Hisoka smiled, tucking a lock of dark hair behind Chrollo’s pierced ear. “Then it’s yours,” he said gently. “You need a good coat, since that horrendous sweater isn’t doing you much go—”

Before he could finish his scathing report on the ratty cardigan, Chrollo tangled his fingers in Hisoka’s cravat and yanked him down for a rough, uncoordinated kiss. Their lips met clumsily, Chrollo’s eyes squeezed shut so he missed how Hisoka floundered.

It was over before he could gather the thought to deepen it, or even just hold on.

“What was that?” he asked, his expression struck and his voice quiet. He licked his lips, tasting Chrollo’s sweetness on his tongue.

Chrollo put his cup on the counter and covered Hisoka’s face with one of the large coat sleeves, turning his back to him for good measure. “Shut up,” he heard as he fought to pull the hand away from his eyes. “It was a thank you. Don’t say anything.”

He brought his fingers to his lips and swore he could still feel the warmth Chrollo’s had left. If this was how Chrollo showed gratitude, he’d have to make it a habit to be as generous as a saint to him. As he took in his small frame, so dwarfed in the warm coat, the empty cup on the counter, Hisoka smiled to himself.

If that was what it took, it’d be no hardship at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw chapter

“Chrollo, you look terrible.”

Chrollo didn’t bother lifting his head from the counter, but he didn’t need to. Hisoka still saw his frown, buried beneath the exhaustion so heavy on his face. “Aren’t you trying to win my affections?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his raggedy sleeve-covered hand. “You’re being mean.”

Hisoka sighed and dragged his stool closer to him, setting down the takeout bag on the floor. “I’m being serious.” Chrollo had always held a weary air about him, but this was beyond anything he’d seen yet. Haggard and drained, he looked more listless than a corpse. He ran his fingers through the dark hair, unsure of what to do.

“I’m just…I’m just tired.” Chrollo turned his face towards him, as pitiful as a kitten caught in a storm. “I can’t remember the last time I felt like I’d slept.”

“Maybe you should go upstairs,” he whispered soothingly, resting his hand on a pale cheek, sighing when Chrollo leaned into his touch.

Dark eyes closed, something like pain passing over his face. “What’s the point?” he cut, holding Hisoka’s hand to his cheek as if he expected him to disappear. “So I can stare at the ceiling and think about how terrible I am at a basic human function?”

What could a being who didn’t need sleep say to that? “I’ve brought some food, maybe if you eat you’ll feel well enough to sleep?” he offered, but Chrollo just opened his eyes and pushed away from him, forcing himself out of his chair in a move that looked far more excruciating than it should have. Hisoka leaned back and let him, furrowing his brow.

“What are you doing, love?” he asked, Chrollo staggering towards the boxes stacked near the far wall. “You shouldn’t be pushing yourself.”

Chrollo turned back, his hard glare softened considerably by the exhaustion steeped through him like a miasma. “I’m not going to sit around, Hisoka. I don’t want to ruminate on my failings, so I’m going to get some work done.” The box was opened and he began to pull out a handful of books, stacking them in his arms. “That’s why I keep the store open. Just let me cope.”

He rubbed at his eyes and stood up, unwilling to sit and watch Chrollo work himself to death. “Let me help then,” Hisoka sighed, moving around the counter. If Chrollo was dead set on unpacking the latest shipment of stock, then he’d do the heavy lifting.

“I’m fine,” Chrollo insisted, climbing the built-in ladder to fill the top shelf. His hands shook visibly, his pallid cheeks flushed high with color. “I can…I can do this…”

Hisoka sensed it before it happened, the minute shift in Chrollo’s blood flow blaring like a siren in the still air. The books tumbled from his lax arms, clattering to the floor. It was more than enough warning, and Hisoka moved so fast his vision blurred, catching Chrollo’s unconscious form before he could fall more than an inch.

“Damnit Chrollo,” he muttered, taking the slender human to the floor to cradle him in his lap, a hand to his cheek to check his pulse. It pounded slowly, as tired as everything else about him. Hisoka bit his lip and stared down at his beautiful face, brushing the bangs from his closed eyes.

What was he supposed to do now? Chrollo lived upstairs, or so he said. Should he take him to his bed?

A draft picked up and tousled his hair, carrying on it the heady scent of Chrollo. His fangs itched. His fingers lingered along the warm throat, tracing the line of his jugular. Soft, rose petal lips parted like an offering, and Hisoka wondered if he shouldn’t just take the chance opportunity afforded him.

Leaning down, he skimmed his lips along a sharp cheekbone, Chrollo a negligible weight in his arms. How was he so warm? The bruises beneath his eyes were warmer than the rest, the only flaw to be seen. He must have been so worn out if he fainted simply from exertion. The poor thing. It’d be a waste to have him now, when he wasn’t even awake to react.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked fondly, lifting him from the floor. His lovely face settled on his shoulder, the warm puffs of his breath teasing his neck. “Let’s get you to bed, dear one.”

When Chrollo didn’t argue, he smiled and stood, lifting him so easily. The door that hid the way to the upper levels lay behind the rows of shelves, and Hisoka made for it. He wondered what his room looked like. Chrollo was always so private, he couldn’t imagine what he might like in terms of décor. He met the door that served as the entrance and he shifted Chrollo in his arms, freeing up a hand to turn the handle and walk in.

He nearly dropped Chrollo when the first thing to greet him happened to be the messiest apartment he’d ever seen.

Takeout containers were scattered around as if in some bastardized attempt at feng shui. Hisoka’s eyes were wide and horrified when he stepped over the clutter, nearly tripped by a stack of antique looking books laid out in the middle of what would be the walk way. “How are you still alive?” he asked the unconscious human softly, finding no rhyme or reason for the piles of junk. Compared to the tidy shelves downstairs, it was almost comical how different this maelstrom was.

“Is this why you’re such a mess?” he mused, managing to spot the bed among the clutter. “Can’t take care of your things, can’t take care of yourself? Your workers must do a fair bit of organizing down below to keep the store in order.” The bed, or what he assumed was the bed, was free of detritus at the very least. It was only a mattress on the floorboards, but the blankets smelled clean.

He gently rested Chrollo on the sheets, tucking him in with a kiss pressed to his cheek. Dark hair framed his sleeping face beautifully, the rest suiting him far better than anything he’d seen of him yet. Hisoka watched him, his eyes narrowing when Chrollo furrowed his brow, shifting uneasily. His small hand clutched the sheets, searching for something.

“Do you want something?” he asked quietly, looking around at the mismatched bedding. Chrollo shook despite the blankets, his fingers curling into a fist, and he looked harder. It would be terrible if he woke now, just because he wasn’t comfortable.

Lifting blankets and stray pillows, he looked for whatever it was that Chrollo needed.

Expensive fabric caught his eye, so out of place in the hodge podge of cheap fleece and cotton sheets. “No,” he muttered in disbelief, tugging from the folds the coat he had given Chrollo only nights before. What was it doing in his bed? His mind began to stutter when Chrollo’s fingertips found a sleeve, clutching it tight.

“Do you sleep with this?” he asked gleefully, pulling it completely from its prison to present to his perfect little human. “Chrollo, you’re going to be the death of me at this rate.”

He didn’t know what to do with himself when Chrollo seized it like a lifeline, cradling it against his chest the way a child would a teddy bear. His nose buried in the expensive fabric, Chrollo settled and returned to his deep slumber, soothed by the scent of his coat.

The sight was almost too much to handle. Hisoka stroked his head and looked around at the mess, forcing himself not to stare. The last thing Chrollo needed was blood loss compounding his problems, no matter how tempting he made himself look.

Should he leave? It was hours yet until sunrise, but with the thick curtains and north facing windows, it was almost a non-issue. So long as he kept away from the windows, he’d be able to stay.

He rubbed at his eyes and looked down at his sleeping beauty. He wanted to stay. Even if it were only exhaustion, it didn’t feel right to leave Chrollo alone to take care of himself.

But that lead to the question of how long would Chrollo sleep and what he should do in the meantime. Hisoka sighed and stared at the kitchen tucked into the corner of the studio. Even from here, he could see how the sink was overflowing with dishes. He ran his hand down his face, sighing again.

“You really are such a commitment,” he told Chrollo, pushing himself up and off the mattress.

Rolling up his sleeves, he went into the ramshackle kitchen to see if Chrollo had the common sense to have dish soap among his hoard of miscellany. If only Illumi could see him now, he thought, laughing under his breath while he filled the sink with water. He didn’t think he’d ever worked this hard for a meal.

\-------

It took hours for Chrollo to stir, and by then, Hisoka had exhausted every ounce of cleaning left to do.

“Are you finally waking up?” he asked quietly, reclined next to him on the mattress in just his shirtsleeves and trousers. The rest of his outfit had been shed along the way, the tight velvet and expensive silk too delicate to hold up to the harsh cleaning products and heavy lifting. Chrollo stared up at him with dark, bleary eyes, looking better than he had in the entirely of their relationship thus far.

“Hisoka?” he mumbled hoarsely, rubbing at his sleep-muddled eyes. “Where are we?”

Hisoka raised a brow and waited to answer, letting his sleepy human take a look around. Dark eyes widened and his hand fell to the mattress, shock and confusion replacing the sluggishness in an instant.

“What did you do?” he demanded, an angry frown on his pale lips. “Why am I up here and where is my stuff?”

He reached out a hand and ran it through Chrollo’s messy mop of hair, laughing a little at how affronted he looked at finally being able to see the floor of his apartment. “Don’t you remember at all? Chrollo, you passed out. I had to carry you up here.”

A furious blush raced to fill his cheeks, and not even his frown could hide how embarrassed he was to hear that. Hisoka pulled him closer and gave in to the urge to kiss him. It was quick and chaste, over before Chrollo felt the need to push him away.

“How long was I asleep?” he asked, staring at the blankets bunched up in his lap. The coat was still draped over him, but with Hisoka already watching, he couldn’t do much to hide it from him.

Hisoka pondered the question. It’d certainly been awhile. He dug into his pocket and pulled from it his pocket watch, reading the time. “You’ve been asleep for about fourteen hours,” he reported dutifully, missing the look of horror on Chrollo’s face. “As you can imagine, I got a bit bored waiting for you to wake up, so I took efforts to entertain myself.”

He didn’t expect for Chrollo to throw off the blankets and try to stand.

“I think you should stay put,” he offered, watching with careful eyes as his human wobbled, sitting upright in a daze.

“I think you should have woken me up,” Chrollo muttered, holding his head in his hands when the dizziness proved too much to push past. “Did you lock up the shop?”

“I did.” He’d gone back for it once he remembered. He’d even put a sign on the door saying closed for the weekend. “Why don’t you rest a bit more? I had some food brought for you. Try eating a bit and we can see about moving later.”

Chrollo looked at him, resigned. “You really stayed here the entire time, didn’t you?”

Hisoka was almost offended. “I wasn’t going to leave you by yourself,” he said, sitting up only to guide Chrollo back down. “And you’re lucky I did. You can actually traverse your apartment now without tripping or contracting a deadly disease.”

Hiding his face in his pillow, Chrollo sulked.

“I see you kept the coat,” he prodded after a moment of purposeful silence. “Does it help you sleep?”

Narrow shoulders shifted and Chrollo’s ears reddened, impossible to hide this close up. “It’s warm,” he mumbled, turning his head just enough to show a single eye. “I just like it, okay?”

Hisoka smiled knowingly, wrapping an arm around him to tug him closer. His lips brushed a warm ear, making Chrollo shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. “It must smell a lot like me, wouldn’t you say? Do you like imagining me close?”

“I like imagining you with my fist in your face,” Chrollo muttered, curling into the coat so it hid him from view. “Why am I so dizzy? You didn’t snack on me while I slept, did you?”

“I’d never do that while you couldn’t appreciate it,” Hisoka chuckled, tugging on his shoulder until he rolled over to face him. It took some coaxing, but he managed it in the end. “You’re dizzy because you haven’t eaten in a day. Let me get you something. What do you want?”

Chrollo grimaced and his stomach chose that moment to growl, proving his point for him. His arms wrapped tightly around his middle, he tried to suppress the noises. “What do you have?” he sighed, trying not to look hungry and failing miserably.

Hisoka lifted himself from the mattress and went into the sparkling kitchen, opening up the cleaned out fridge to pull the many takeout containers from its depths. He’d fetched the food from earlier and brought it up when he locked the shop, but that had been before Chrollo fainted. It’d been far too long since he’d needed to eat food, so he sprung for more in case one dish proved more helpful than others.

“There’s a lot to choose from,” he admitted, and he could feel Chrollo’s surprise growing as he kept pulling out containers. “Do you like ceviche?”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Chrollo breathed, the coat clutched tightly in his hands. “Why did you buy so much? I can’t eat all of this.”

Shrugging to hide his embarrassment, he set the ceviche aside to grab something less exotic. “I didn’t know what would be best, so I got a bit of everything. What about mashed potatoes? Most people like that, right?”

“Yeah, I like that,” Chrollo said, his voice small, and he turned back just in time to see Chrollo hide himself beneath the blankets. “You shouldn’t have gone to all this effort. It’s not that big of a deal. I’m fine on my own.”

Hisoka put the container into the microwave and pushed some buttons, grabbing a bowl while it reheated. Chrollo would have food enough for a couple weeks given all he bought. “I’m sure you are, but I still wanted to do it.”

The appliance beeping cut through the air, interrupting before Chrollo could muster up the will to respond. He took out the container and stirred it, pouring a generous portion into the bowl. It steamed gently in the cool room, the heat warming his hands as he carried it to the lump of blankets still hiding from his sight.

“Food delivery,” he announced childishly, nudging the Chrollo-bump with a hand once he had settled himself back on the mattress. “Eat up.”

The smell of the food wafted through the air, doing more than he could ever do to make Chrollo come out. His hand was the first to emerge, feeling around for the bowl as if he intended to snatch it up and drag in back inside his makeshift nest.

“Nope,” Hisoka said, holding it far from reach. “You have to come out if you want it.”

Chrollo whined but came out, throwing the blankets off like a denied child. “You are so embarrassing,” he told him, taking the bowl and smelling it suspiciously before he even made a move towards the spoon. “Where did you get this?”

“That bistro on the corner,” he said, watching Chrollo dig in ravenously. His cheeks flushed with the first bite he took, his eyes closing in pleasure. “I take it that you like it?”

It took a moment for him to reply, since he didn’t seem to want to put down the spoon long enough to swallow. “It’s really good,” Chrollo answered, his mouth full but that not dissuading him from talking. He ate quickly, with his eyes down or looking at the bags still littering his counter space. “It must have cost a lot, buying all this stuff.”

Hisoka shrugged, resting on his arms. “Money isn’t really an issue, so don’t think on it. You’ve got food now for a few days at least. You should take care of yourself better when you’re feeling tired. Maybe this will help.”

The spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl and Chrollo stared at it, as if wishing it were full again so he wouldn’t have to talk. “I’m just…” he began, worrying his lip with his teeth while he settled the empty bowl in his lap. “I’m just not used to people caring.” Chrollo looked up to meet eyes, looking so painfully beautiful in his uncertainty. “You care about me. You want to eat me, but you still care.”

Hisoka took the bowl from him and set it on the floor, away from the mattress. Like this, with their voices low and the mood sharp, it was hard to ignore that they were on a bed, only inches from each other.

“I do care. I don’t know why, but I do,” Hisoka admitted, cradling his perfect face in his palm. “You’re infuriating and intoxicating and I can’t imagine how boring my life would still be without you in it.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Chrollo’s cheeks were a delicate pink now, coloring him like the shyest of roses. His fingers reached out and grasped the fabric covering Hisoka’s knee. “Will you kiss me?” he asked softly, peering up at him through his lashes.

He didn’t pause even to think, the words he’d longed to hear finally being spoken aloud. Their lips met and Chrollo shivered, moving eagerly into his lap when Hisoka tugged at his hips. Everything about him spoke of light and sun and heat, thick enough on his tongue to make Hisoka burn in the pit of his stomach. He teased the seam of Chrollo’s lips with his tongue, searching for more to sate the hunger growing inside.

Chrollo was so warm in his arms, wrapped around him like he never wanted to be apart. Hisoka stroked down his back, tangling a hand in his dark hair to tilt his head to the side. “Do you want me?” he asked, licking a stripe along the swan-like neck that’d been tempting him from the very moment they met. “Chrollo, can I?”

“Why are you asking?” he managed, sucking his own marks into Hisoka’s skin, though he probably didn’t know they’d never take.

Why was he asking? Hisoka carded through soft hair, his other hand sneaking beneath Chrollo’s thin sweater to touch his fiery skin. When had this gone from simple amusement to something like this? Kissing a flushed cheek, he sighed, not knowing the answer to any of the questions but wanting it all the same.

“I want to hear you say it,” he settled on saying, pulling Chrollo out of the crook of his neck so they could meet eyes. “Will you let me have you, Chrollo?” He prayed he’d say yes. He didn’t think himself capable of stopping now, when the thrum of his blood called out to him like a siren seducing him towards a rocky shore.

Dark, want-filled eyes met his own, Chrollo’s lips red and shiny and as tempting as any forbidden fruit. White teeth sunk into the tender flesh, and Hisoka wished for just a taste of what he promised. “Will it hurt?” Chrollo asked softly, his hands clenching in the fabric of Hisoka’s shirt. “Will you kill me if I let you?”

He wanted to. His fangs ached in his gums, instinct telling him to rip and tear and take until there was nothing left to give. Surging forward, he sealed their lips together, burying the bloodlust as deeply as he could. They broke apart when Chrollo needed to breathe.

“I won’t let it hurt,” he promised, kissing the pulse point that kissed back with every beat of Chrollo’s heart. “I don’t want anything to hurt you. Please, Chrollo, let me.”

Chrollo began to tremble. “Do you promise?”

Hisoka made their eyes meet, losing himself in the doll-like beauty of the human in his lap. A promise from him would be akin to a promise made between a wolf and a lamb. Chrollo stared up at him, so delicate and warm and alive, looking his butcher in the face like he could change Hisoka’s nature if he tried hard enough.

There were a thousand reasons why Chrollo was dangerous, the worst of all residing in his power to do just that.

“I swear, Chrollo,” he said, strangling his instincts. “Just look into my eyes and you won’t feel a thing.”

Black lashes fluttered and he turned his damp eyes up, leaning into the hand cupping his cheek. “I trust you, Hisoka,” he murmured.

To prove his promise true, Hisoka kissed him before he did anything. Their eyes stayed open and he let his compulsion bleed through the contact between them, pouring it into Chrollo.

 _Want me,_ he commanded, nearly losing himself in Chrollo’s fathomless eyes. _Feel only me. Want only me. There is no pain, only me._

He knew it worked when Chrollo sagged against his chest, his pale pink lips gasping for breath. The rest had been enough to grant him domain over his thoughts, but Hisoka hadn’t needed to do much to will Chrollo to be his.

“Hisoka,” he moaned, baring his neck like an offering. “Hisoka, Hisoka, I need—”

“I know,” he breathed, cupping his cheek to pull him to his mouth. His fangs ripped free of his gums and grazed the paper-thin skin, hovering just over the vein singing so sweetly for his touch. Like this, his senses were filled with his beautiful human, Chrollo’s body as pliable as a doll’s so long as it was his hands moving it.

“Please,” Chrollo begged softly, and Hisoka bit down, unable to resist him any longer.

The flood of blood that rushed into his mouth felt like the first breath of air he took after crawling from his coffin half a millennium ago. Hisoka groaned and cradled Chrollo to him, holding him still as he took greedy, messy mouthfuls. Chrollo cried out weakly in his ear, but it sounded far off, as if he were underwater and a tempest lay above, muting everything but the rush and flood and relief the blood carried.

He counted to five in his head, dragging himself away from the fount before he let it talk him into draining Chrollo dry. Blood trickled in thick lines down the slender throat and he licked it up eagerly, applying pressure with his hand to staunch the bleeding. There was nothing he could do to make his fangs recede, not with the scent so heavy in the air.

Shaking, cold fingers alit on the back of his neck, Chrollo tugging at his hair to bring his attention back to him.

“You taste so good,” Hisoka said, his voice a husky mess. “Oh, Chrollo, you taste like sex.”

It was gratifying to see that Chrollo still held enough blood in his body to blush so beautifully. “Don’t say things like that,” he mumbled, nuzzling him shyly with his lips, tasting himself on Hisoka’s tongue. “You feel warm now. Do you feel good?”

“I feel alive,” he crooned, cradling Chrollo’s head in his hand as he rolled them, laying Chrollo out along the sheets. “I can feel you thrumming in my veins. My heart beats because of you.” He took a small hand in his own and brought it to his chest, letting him feel the slow, somnolent rhythm of his heart waking.

Chrollo looked overwhelmed. He looked beautiful. His lips parted in wonder, and he looked up at Hisoka with a look that begged for more. “Can you touch me now?” he asked quietly, his hands nestled on the pillow beside his head. “I want your heart to race like mine.”

“Will you really let me?” It was too good to be true, and he kissed him before he could answer. He felt like a half-broken horse finally given the reins, and he wanted nothing more than to carry Chrollo off with him.

Moaning his yes, Chrollo tangled his hands in his hair, deepening the kiss until even Hisoka felt a need to come up for air. “I trust you,” Chrollo spoke against his lips, tugging at Hisoka’s wrinkled button up. “Make me feel good. I want us to feel good together.”

With that in the air, it degenerated into a mad dash to strip, neither able to bear the thought of anything coming between them. Hisoka did most of the work, his preternatural dexterity far quicker than Chrollo’s clumsy fingers, his pleasure-drunk state more conducive to being undressed than towards doing the undressing.

Hisoka’s shirt fluttered to the floor within seconds, followed soon after by Chrollo’s ratty, loathed cardigan. His thin t-shirt fell next, and, with reverent care, Hisoka tugged the trousers from his long legs, kissing every inch of skin as it was revealed to him.

For all the years he’d lived and places he’d seen, nothing would compare to the pale beauty of Chrollo laid out below him. Hisoka held himself high enough to admire him, taking in how Chrollo shifted and tried to hide when there was nowhere to go. From his neck, blood sluggishly dripped, calling him in louder than any verbal plea.

“Why are you staring?” Chrollo whispered, covering his face with his arms. He brought his knees together, doing his best to hide the boy shorts that left nothing at all to the imagination. They were cute and purple, and Hisoka rested a hand against the front, feeling the heat pour off his human.

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he whispered back, lowering his mouth to suck at the half-healed bite marks until the blood trickled to the surface. “I want to devour you.”

His hand slipped down the waistband of the panties and Chrollo shivered like a leaf in a storm, clutching his shoulders for stability while he explored the hidden heat. “Oh, god, Hisoka,” he whined, a single hand rooting around above his head. “Here, take this.”

A cool, half-empty bottle of lube met his temple, and Hisoka pulled away enough to take it, raising an eye at the strawberry flavor boasted on the label. “They didn’t have this when I was your age,” he teased, thumbing open the cap to coat his fingers.

“What did they have?” Chrollo asked, his curiosity alive and well even like this. Hisoka tugged the panties down his hips and prodded at his entrance, rolling the pads of his fingers along the opening to spread the lubricant evenly.

He thought back, sifting through the memories to when he was still human. “Oils, usually,” he murmured, smiling as Chrollo’s muscle fluttered against his finger before he pushed inside. “Made from roses, if you had the money.”

Chrollo’s eyes closed and he accepted a second finger beautifully, spreading his legs wider. “Did you…” he panted, his voice trailing off when Hisoka found his prostate and began to massage it. “Did you have the money?”

Hisoka kissed him silent, working in a third finger while he was distracted. A sheen of sweat covered his body, making him glisten like a star torn from the heavens. “I didn’t then, but I do now,” he crooned into a pierced ear, nipping at the lobe with sharp teeth. “I want to drown you in luxury. You’d look so good in my bed, laid out on silk.”

“Not a coffin?” Chrollo huffed, laughing through his quiet moans of pleasure. “What a vampire you are, ruining the classics.”

He rolled his eyes fondly, retracting his fingers and wrapping them around Chrollo’s thigh. “I keep a house, just like anyone else,” he murmured, guiding Chrollo to lay on his side, Hisoka falling in behind him. Tugging down his slacks, he freed his cock, rubbing it against the soft skin of his lower back.

Lifting his thigh and hooking it back over Hisoka’s, Chrollo bared himself, arching to coax him inside. Their fingers interlaced on Chrollo’s flat stomach, Hisoka holding him tightly when he pressed the head to the slick entrance.

“Can we go there sometime?” Chrollo asked in the second before Hisoka thrust, hopeful and embarrassed and blunt all at once in a way that only he could be. “I want you to fuck me in your bed—”

Hisoka couldn’t resist the urge, so he didn’t. He took Chrollo’s thigh in hand and held him open, rolling his hips forward to impale his gorgeous, mind-numbing human before he said something that drove Hisoka completely insane.

Heat, blinding, scorching heat hugged him tight and Hisoka’s forehead fell to Chrollo’s shaking shoulder, his control so thin it hung by a thread. It’d been far too long since he’d last done this, and he couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever had the chance to have someone as ethereal as Chrollo. Hisoka rocked them together gently, letting the proximity do the work to keep this intimate and slow.

“I’ll fuck you wherever you let me, Chrollo,” Hisoka promised, raking his fangs down his shoulder to draw the blood to the surface, adding another layer of depth to the pleasure burning him down to his foundations. “You feel so good I can hardly stand it.”

Chrollo didn’t reply, too overcome to try a retort. He trembled and whined, holding tightly to Hisoka’s hand around his waist. “Faster,” he gasped when Hisoka began to kiss and nip his neck. “I want it faster. I thought you wanted me, but you’re so lazy.”

Hisoka gave a breathless laugh, rocking in harder. “Lazy is the last thing I am,” he promised, fixing his grip to move him the way he craved.

It wasn’t enough though. Chrollo fidgeted and whined, bucking fruitlessly. “Hisoka, please,” he begged, looking over his shoulder with damp, dark eyes. “Why won’t you go faster?”

Perhaps this wasn’t the night to take Chrollo to pieces slowly. Hisoka sighed with a smile, kissing him gently as a preemptive apology before he stopped moving completely. Who would have expected him to be so restless?

“Hisoka,” Chrollo groaned angrily, but he was silenced by another kiss, this one deep and debilitating. It gave him enough time to move them into something better suited for what Chrollo wanted. He pulled away and Chrollo rejected the distance immediately, but Hisoka simply held Chrollo in place, taking his thigh and lifting it for the leverage needed to fuck him the way he craved.

The effect was instantaneous. Chrollo turned his face into the sheets, clawing at the bedding while Hisoka rolled his hips to a quick, punishing rhythm. Muffled, wanton moans filled the air, the sweetest symphony he’d ever heard. It was still hard to believe it was finally his.

He couldn’t help but want more.

“Don’t hide from me,” Hisoka begged, unable to turn him back towards him lest he ruin the rhythm they had built. “Chrollo, please, I want to see you.” Flushed skin and want-blackened eyes, an angel brought low by a demon of the night; he couldn’t stand not seeing it, and he wished he’d had the foresight to turn Chrollo on his back to keep him from denying him the sight.

“You’re embarrassing,” Chrollo shot back, pressing his face harder into the pillow. His voice was barely audible but with how his ears reddened, his meaning was all too clear. “Hisoka…”

It was all he got for warning before Chrollo came, his muted cry buried in the feathery down.

“Oh, Chrollo, you didn’t let me see,” he complained breathlessly, his head spinning at the tightness enveloping him. “How cruel, how utterly cruel.”

Chrollo whined pitifully, hugging the pillow to his chest. The blush moved down to his shoulders and Hisoka gave in to the urge to bite him again, sinking his fangs into his shoulder to taste the blush taunting him. The moment the rich, pleasure-steeped blood touched his tongue, he came, moaning Chrollo’s name through his greedy mouthful.

White painted his vison, heady and blinding and scorching like the sun. But this, this Hisoka welcomed. He let go of Chrollo’s thigh to wrap his arms around him, savoring him in every way he knew how until his lovely human came up for air.

“Hisoka!” he cried out, fisting his hair to hold him to his shoulder. “Oh, god, Hisoka, too much, it’s too much—”

Hisoka ripped his fangs free and licked up the spilled blood, holding him while he writhed. Chrollo rolled onto his back, unable to hide now. The mess of his release covered his stomach, sticking to them both when he arched against him, sharing the taste in a bloodstained kiss.

Warm tears brushed his cheeks and he pulled back, taking in Chrollo’s pretty, wrecked face. Watery red slicked his lips, a macabre stain that only added to his beauty. “What’s wrong, lovely one?” Hisoka breathed, delighting in every shift Chrollo made with him still firmly inside. “Don’t you want to go again?”

“I can’t,” he told him, turning his face away in efforts to hide, though Hisoka had no intention of letting him escape again.

“And why not?” he whispered, grazing his lips along his ear, smiling when it elicited a choked mewl. “I can smell the blood in you. It’s inside me too now, and it’s so warm and alive. You’re heating up, I can smell the want. The need. Won’t you let me see you cum this time?”

He could tell he won even before Chrollo deigned to look at him.

“Why are you like this?” Chrollo moaned brokenly, his head falling back while he rubbed himself against Hisoka’s hard stomach. He was already getting hard again, the slick mess helping him to slide wetly along his skin.

Hisoka didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He rolled his hips slowly, taking into account Chrollo’s over-sensitized nerves, and drank in the sight his hard work and dogged pursuit had earned him. “I want to see you like this forever,” he admitted, trailing his fingers over kiss-swollen lips. “Do you think you could manage spending all of your sleepless nights with me?”

Chrollo answered by parting his lips and sucking on his fingers, his small, slender hands clenched weakly in the pillowcase beneath his head. Hisoka bit his lip and clamped down on his control, resisting the urge to do something stupid simply because Chrollo looked like he’d welcome it.

“You are hell on my self-control,” he told him, reluctantly retracting his fingers to draw them down to Chrollo’s heat, working him in time to the glacial pace his hips commanded.

“Now you know how I feel,” Chrollo gasped, his entire frame shaking in the moments before his orgasm.

Hisoka could sense it coming, feeling it building in their shared blood like a secret blossoming between them. He sealed their lips together to toppled him over the precipice, pulling back just in time to watch his pale, beautiful human shatter like struck porcelain.

Nothing could compare to the sight. He cupped his cheek while Chrollo panted, his dark, abyssal eyes as deep as pits when he succumbed. A sheen of sweat made him glisten, his red, wet lips even shinier when he opened his mouth to keen. “How have you not been claimed?” Hisoka had to ask, brushing his hair behind his ear. “How could anyone not see this and never let go?”

“No one’s ever cared to,” Chrollo gasped, nuzzling Hisoka’s hand to keep it entangled in his messy hair.

“Fools,” he laughed, giving in to the urge to kiss away what breath Chrollo still had left. “Complete and utter idiots.”

If he had his way, Chrollo would never be alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we got an epilogue after this that ill write tomorrow prolly so were in the final stretch!


	7. Epilogue

There were no words to describe the look of utter fury on Illumi’s face, and most of that had to do with the expression being more implied than actually visible.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, glaring in equal measure between Hisoka and Chrollo as if they had both conspired against him. “Hisoka, this is so out of bounds that it’s verging on suicide.”

Tucking Chrollo tighter under his arm, Hisoka merely grinned. “Aw, are you finally concerned for me, Illumi?” he teased, guiding them inside the council room with a jovial air about him. “You did tell me I had to attend these things, so here I am.”

Chrollo glanced around the room, taking everything in. “Are you not supposed to bring guests?” he asked, and Illumi strode in after them, trying to block the way.

“Not humans,” he gritted through clenched teeth, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Hisoka, if my father sees this—”

“Illumi, you’re such a stick in the mud,” Hisoka cut, moving around him to settle into his normal council seat. Chrollo made a move towards the chair beside him, but with a tug to his hand, he had him seated snuggly in his lap, his head tucked under his chin. “What trouble could we be like this?”

They were spared another testy remark when the others began to flood in slowly, Illumi too conscientious of his status and expected decorum to start something in front of them. Hisoka waved him away with the tips of his fingers, Chrollo curling into him closer as if shy. A glare followed him from across the room, and though he heard the whispers begin, he paid them no mind.

“Are you breaking rules bringing me here?” Chrollo asked softly, his hands clutching his coat front. “Hisoka, I don’t want to get eaten by a dozen vampires just because you thought it’d be fun to stir up trouble.”

Shushing him, he nuzzled his lips against his soft, pale throat. Chrollo smelled so good and it was a wonder the others hadn’t sprung the moment they sensed him, not that he would have allowed them a single bite. “Are you afraid?” he murmured, meeting eyes with a ravenous vampire from across the room as he licked along the beautiful neck. “A sheep in the wolves’ den, aren’t you?”

He got a smack to the cheek for the act. “I think you’re being a brat. Are you trying to start something?” Chrollo chastised, whispering into his ear so he could hide his face from the appraising eyes.

Hisoka wrapped his arms around him tighter and laughed, rocking him in his lap. “Humor me for a bit and I’ll reward you,” he promised, watching with eager eyes as Silva finally entered the chamber, his nostrils flaring the second he crossed the threshold. “I want us both to have some fun tonight, so let’s see how long they last.”

Silva’s steel blue eyes locked onto him in an instant, his expression unreadable while he took in the sight of the mortal in his arms and the cocky look no doubt well at home on Hisoka’s smiling face. Illumi shrunk back in his seat and avoided his father’s eyes, spared a lecture simply because it was time to begin the meeting.

This would definitely be interesting, Hisoka thought. No one had ever been brazen enough to bring a human into their midst. Would his plan work? He couldn’t wait to find out.

“First order of business,” he began, calling the meeting to order with nothing but the sound of his voice. “There have been boundary confrontations….”

Hisoka’s attention waivered immediately, the boredom thick and invasive as it always was at these things. He ignored the voice droning on, entertaining himself with Chrollo. Warm as he was, he felt so lovely in his arms, his pulse kissing him back with every beat of his heart.

“Hisoka, what’s he talking about?” Chrollo asked softly, eyes focused on Silva while Hisoka played and touched. “Territory things?”

It figured that Chrollo would be curious enough to follow along. He’d make a far more studious vampire than he ever had. “This city is ours,” he answered back, drawing attention the more they spoke. In a room of preternatural senses, the quietest whisper was as loud as a shout. “We laid claim to it long ago, and if other factions seek to expand their hunting grounds, it causes friction.”

Humming, Chrollo nodded, completely uncaring as Hisoka kissed his neck and hands. “What does he mean by revenants?” he asked next, following along while Hisoka pointedly didn’t.

“Vampires without a coven. We don’t like them much. They cause problems with the locals.”

Illumi’s gaze was scorching from across the room, and Hisoka lifted his sight to meet him, smiling cheekily. They were being too loud, too talkative. He threaded his fingers through Chrollo’s soft hair, tugging his head to the side to suck a harsh bruise into his white skin. The bloodlust of the gathered vampires was growing, but Silva’s business-like drone kept them in line, if only just.

“Can’t you wait until we’re home to do that?” Chrollo murmured, shifting impatiently in his lap. “I wanna ask this vampire some questions.”

“Oh, you probably shouldn’t do that,” Hisoka chuckled, leaving the soft skin alone for a moment. “Silva is a mean old bat. He might try to steal you away from me for himself, and I promise he won’t be as nice to you if he succeeds.”

Chrollo frowned childishly, whining a bit. A thrum of intent filled the air at the sound. Hisoka tightened his grip on Chrollo, glaring hotly at the vampires he could see. His human probably had no idea just how tempting he was. What an exciting meeting this would be if they gave him a reason to tear them all limb from limb.

Silva closed the heavy tome, signaling the time had come for the usual recess. Hisoka kissed Chrollo’s cheek. They’d no doubt be on the chopping block within a minute. The chamber emptied slowly and Chrollo wriggled in his lap, wanting to stretch his legs and wander. He held tighter, eyes locked on Silva as he approached them.

“Pleasant seeing you tonight, Silva,” Hisoka greeted, and his voice made Chrollo stop struggling. The slight uptick in his heartbeat rang like a gunshot through the air, but he knew it was from excitement, not fear. “You’re as organized as ever.”

“What is this, Hisoka?” Silva cut in, no patience for preamble, just as he always was. Looming over them both, he definitely looked ominous. “This is juvenile, even for you.”

Hisoka feigned confusion and Chrollo peeked out his face, staring up at the monstrous vampire addressing them. “Juvenile?” he chuckled, coaxing Chrollo to come out fully. “Why, I’m simply attending the council meeting, as per my responsibilities as an ancient.”

Silva didn’t sigh, but it was a close thing. “We have rules in place, Hisoka. You can’t bring meals here.”

“Excuse me?” Chrollo cut in, pushing Hisoka back a little so he could glare up at Silva himself. “I’m not his lunchbox.”

“Dearest, play nice,” Hisoka laughed, but he didn’t mean it at all. If he could get Chrollo to target others with his sharp tongue, it’d be a blessed relief. “You’ll have to forgive him, Silva. He’s a bit stir crazy. These things can be awfully tedious, you know.”

“Are you intending on turning him?”

Hisoka feigned consideration, looking down at Chrollo curled up in his chest. “What do you think, dear one? Are you ready to say goodbye to your humanity and join the ranks of the poorly dressed immortals?”

Chrollo masked his grin beautifully, bringing his hand to his chin as he pretended to think. “I’m not sure, darling,” he began, looking up at him with glee. “Isn’t that something to discuss after marriage? This is all moving so fast for me.”

“There you have it,” he laughed, loving the look of frustration on Silva’s normally so impassive face. “Perhaps after the mortgage is paid off.”

Silva sighed this time, low and exasperated. “Illumi made you come, and this is what you do to get back at him?” he asked, dragging his hand down his face tiredly. “Is it really so hard to fulfil your baseline responsibilities?”

“I can’t help it if your meetings are duller than the grave,” Hisoka told him, turning his head to mouth and tease Chrollo’s beautiful, enticing throat. “If I bring a toy to keep me occupied, then shouldn’t you be supportive?”

The silence stretched for a few minutes, Chrollo staring between them confusedly. He tried to free himself from Hisoka’s grip to no avail, tuckering himself out in the process. “Is this meeting over now?” he huffed, his small hands resting on the arm locked around his waist.

“I’m not sure,” Hisoka crooned, holding him close and looking up at Silva winsomely. “Why don’t you ask Silva?”

He knew well enough that Silva wasn’t finished with the meeting. He also knew though how distracting Chrollo was. Through the thin, old walls of the abandoned school, he could hear quick clearly the conspiratory whispers of the others, the hungry, feral want they felt for the human curled up in his lap. Hisoka smiled, knowing exactly the sort of powder keg he’d brought with him to this gathering.

Silva knew as well, the displeasure visible in his cold, ancient eyes.

“Yes,” he answered after another moment of silence. If Hisoka wasn’t mistaken, Silva too was inhaling the scent teasing the air. “The meeting is over.”

“Did you hear that, dear one? We can go home now,” he chuckled, running his fingers through Chrollo’s messy hair. “Would you tell Illumi that we’ll see him at the next council meeting? And the seven more after that?” he asked to Silva, smiling dangerously.

Chrollo struggled again to get free from his arms, his ratty, terrible cardigan slipping off a shoulder to bare his flawless skin. Silva glared at Hisoka. “Don’t bother coming,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “We will manage without you.”

Victory. It tasted almost as sweet as Chrollo would when they made their way home. Hisoka smiled innocently at the seething vampire, standing up with Chrollo firmly secured in his arms. “Thanks for a great evening as always,” he chimed.

And with that settled and Illumi’s requirements thrown away, the evenings would be nothing but sweet from now on. Chrollo wrapped his arms around his neck, relaxing in his grip when he realized how the milling vampires watched him with barely hidden want. Hisoka kissed his cheek and held him close, carrying him through the den of wolves.

Chrollo was his. The nights were theirs. And that was all Hisoka needed to make his afterlife exciting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnnd we're done with this fic!!

**Author's Note:**

> we're doing things a bit different here since this fic has been kicking my ass and i don't have it all done. you'll get updates as soon as i finish the chapters that are currently half written. nice comments speed up the process though!!


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